Davrel's
Phantom Menace: Obi-Wan's Fall (remake) "No!" Obi-Wan Kenobi seethed when he saw the Sith Lord's red-bladed lightsaber pierce Qui-Gon's lower abdomen. (Inspired by The Deserter) ''Divergent'' Characters *CT-11/505 "Dominic" (Clone trooper) *05/413 (Clone trooper) *CT-09/111 (Clone trooper) *Baroness *Dark acolyte *Count Dooku Jango? Jango, no! His eyes shot open in flash at the audible memory, they they scannedthe room; rows and rows of cloning tanks, artificial wombs in a pristine laboratory. Fetuses grew in each and every one. After a moment he noticed tall pale-skinned humanoids approach his tank. One of them bore a headcrest and fin ridges around the head while the other was completely bald save for the braid-like headdress. "Welcome, little one." The bald said, in a feminine voice, "This is your first day. Your designation CT-one-one dash five-oh-five." CT-6229 threw his blaster to the floor in frustration after him and the squad came back from the Citadel challenge practice test. "Fierfek! We almost had it this time." He complained. "Cheer up, Comet, you guys did fine work," CT-1125-13 said. Then rotated his vision to the cause of their failure, CT-11/505. "It was Wrecker's failure to follow my orders that caused us the test. Again." The trooper gave a mock chuckle as he slammed his locker. "Who said you were in charge anyway, Axel?" "Doesn't matter someone had to take charge." Underworld Chapter I: "Playing the Role" Walking the permacrete streets of the Uscru Entertainment District in the Coruscant Underworld, Davrel felt his feet start ache in his boots as they pounded the pavement. Tired and almost out of credits, Davrel sat down on a railing outside some club: 'Snapping Septoid' it read in Aurebesh above the entrance. He smiled and ran his fingers through his thick hair. I really shouldn't, but I could use a drink. He thought to himself. Davrel stood up with a low grunt and passed through the pedestrians on the walkway, shoving his way into the club's entry. He stopped and was captivated by the interior, it was as ornate as a criminal hub could be, beautiful in design, from the large viewscreens displaying sports to the sultry female attendants wearing Szona body gloves, the place seemed like a paradise. When a Theelin attendant headed toward him Davrel immediately asked where the refresher was before she could say anything. "Uh, right over there, sir." "Thanks..." His eyes descended from her eyes to her upper body, he read the name on her ID tag, "Ilia." he smiled. Davrel backed away not taking his eyes off the lovely red-headed and amethyst-skinned woman, he was so stricken by her beauty he failed to notice the hulking individual behind him, when felt a mass against him he turned to address but before he could apologize to the sentient, with amazing strength he was swept him off his feet with one hand, he was caught by the throat . . . there was no escape. "What . . . are . . . you . . . doing?" He struggled to say between breaths. The large individual was a Dashade, over two meters tall, clawed three-digit hands, red eyes and leathery-gray skin. He said something in his native language, something Davrel could not understand. "I'm . . . sorry, I didn't catch that." A man stepped beside the large alien, clean cut young man with blond hair and pale blue eyes, a handsome fellow. He wore a nice ribbed brown jacket, gloves, blue pants and black boots to match. "He said watch yourself, friend." "Watch myself? He's the giant. He should apologize to me," he said staring into the Dashade's eyes, "I mean looking at his ugly mug is pretty torturous." "Jhor, I think he needs to be educated on who we are. Bring him down." The Dashade slammed Davrel on the plasteel flooring, the panging of his skull on the floor drew the crowd around them's attention, he grunted loudly. The blond young man stood over the downed twenty-year-old with a malicious smile, he spoke in a smooth voice. "Let me introduce myself, I'm Jeor Myren and this is my good friend, Jhor—" He stopped talking when Davrel began chuckling. "What are you laughing at?" He smiled. "I know very well who you are. And your worth a lot of credits, dead or alive." Jeor scoffed as he took a knee, he patted the pockets on Davrel's beige cargo pants. "And how exactly are you going to collect? You don't any weapons." Davrel's smile was fierce and challenge-accepting. "Like this—Ilia, now!" Davrel watched as the Theelin fired a small holdout blaster twice, hitting both the Dashade and his young Human companion in lower abdomen. She walked over and helped Davrel up. "They still alive?" He asked, clutching his throat, "Ow." Both sentients gasped for air, clenching their seared flesh around the wounds, the Dashade gave in and laid back, dead. Jeor was attempting to hang on, his breathing was sputtered. "Who . . . are . . . you?" Davrel took the holdout from Ilia's hand and squatted down near Jeor's head for a better view. "Oh, you could say I'm something of an emissary, here to send you straight to the Void, but you can call Hondo," he stood up and aimed the blaster at his chest, "Oh, and Tayro Marr say hello." Jeor's eyes widened in his last few seconds and Davrel pulled the trigger, ending his life. He turned and tossed the blaster back to Ilia and escorted her out of the door by the arm, he smiled at the denizens as he passed by, their expressions were a mix of admiration and fear. Back on the streets, the pair walked a block ahead and then stopped at the railing overlooking the skylanes of Coruscant, his eyes wandered from the passing airspeeders and starships to the large ziggurat in the distance, not fully illuminated by the light of advertisements and propaganda for the Clone Wars. "It's beautiful isn't it?" "Yeah, gorgeous," she said impatiently, "Where's Crys, we need to get outta here before the CSF show up." Davrel looked over the edge then turned to the Theelin. "Relax Sybria, she'll be here. Calm your mind and breathe." She sighed and closed her eyes, doing what he suggested. She took one deep inhale and then exhaled. "You know something, you sound like a Jedi." He looked away and sighed. "Yeah . . ." A few seconds later Davrel climbed onto the railing positioning himself like he was about to jump, and after a moment did. He heard Sybria yell, his name, as that was all she could do before he hit the leather interior of a airspeeder. The Theelin grimaced at the false sense of panic and climbed into the backseat. "What took you so long, Crys?" She chuckled. "Traffic," she then looked at Davrel. "So, it's done." "Yep, Zam Roeg, Jhor and Jeor Myren are dead, they're finished." Davrel answered. She chuckled and tossed him a sack of credit vouchers, "Feels a little light, Crys, payment was twenty-thousand." "Finder's fee is twenty-five hundred, plus two hundred for the ride. This isn't my speeder." Davrel shrugged and looked off the side of the speeder, the ziggurat temple of the Knights of the Jedi Order stood off in the distance and started reminiscing of his days before becoming a blaster for hire. The bounty hunter shook his head at the thought of such nonsense, this is what he was meant for. He opened the pouch on his black jacket and placed a few credit vouchers inside for safe keeping, then put the rest in his pants' pocket. A few minutes of traversing the skylanes of Coruscant, Crys leveled the speeder over the portal to the lower levels of Coruscant, descending a hundred floor down, the bounty hunters grew restless. When they finally hit level one hundred and seventeen floors down the trio cleared the vehicle and walked away simultaneously from the speeder in separate directions; Davrel walked along the street, he gave his best smile at the attractive red-skinned Twi'leks moving towards him, they blushed as he passed. When he finally arrived at the Spider Arms Hostel, Davrel walked past the sleeping Rodian attendant, leaving a couple credit vouchers on the desk and headed to his room, the pkace was squalid and unappealing to eye but it was better than living among the vermin and vagrants in the lower levels. The young Human removed his jacket and noticed a smell of leavening agent, when he turned his head to find the source of the smell he spotted a bowl of noodles on the nightstand next to the small bed that occupied the room. He gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Flo." A familiar voice rang in his ears as it replied with the slight notion of pleasure in it. "You're welcome." Ah, poodoo. Davrel's brain yelled, but his demeanor didn't shift when he turned to face the intruder. "Officer Rako Gant, a real pleasure to see you again." He was sitting in Davrel's favorite chair, holding a blaster pistol, though it was pointed at him . . . yet. "I'm sure, how long has it been seen we picked up your friend? Four years?" "Four years, fives months, a week, four days, and I do believe there are some hours and minutes in there but who has time to calculate all that?" "You will, in prison." "I beg your pardon." The cop stood and walked nonchalantly toward his captive, waving his blaster around. "Oh no, there won't be any pardons, you're going to prison, get a cute little orange jumpsuit and rot in a cell for the rest of your life for crimes against the Republic and then I'm going home to my wife and daughter." "You sure about that?" "I'm sure, now turn around," Davrel did as he was told, Rako put binders on him. When he heard the binders click he reared the back of his head into Rako's nose. .... Chapter ? Davrel laid in his bunk, arms crossed behind his head and eyes staring blatantly at the bottom of Shan's bunk Chapter ? Epilogue Davrel removed the hood of his Corellian leather jacket as he stepped inside the cantina in Enceri, the wettest area on Mandalore. He instantly got curious looks but soon everyone went about their business. He scanned the room for his target and found her sitting at the bar, long black hair styled into three long braids, tan skin and what looked like dark brown eyes. She was pretty by the average man's standards and he couldn't help but approach. "Takara Beviin?" She turned slightly. "What do you want?" she asked with a bit of venom in her tone. Davrel chuckled, "Well now, is that anyway to speak to your brother?" Unknown story (Takes place before Davrel leaves the Order ?—26 BBY) Hunted (novella) Part One (V.I) "Why are we doing out here, Tavani?" Davrel questioned, relaxing in the Calrayn's Hand's co-pilot seat. "And more importantly, why the hell am I here?" Anarran roared the same query as he navigated through the planet Io's atmosphere. Tavani's expression hardened. "We're looking for someone." "Who?" "Can't tell you, it's personal." "One thing you never do is mix business and personal stuff, it never works." She looked at him and crooked the side of her mouth into a smile. "Says the guy who risked his own ass as well as well as his Wookiee friend's to save an Iridonian princess from an Imperial who couldn't keep his little general in his pants." "Okay, you got me." He said, "But I did get paid, so it wasn't all personal, and for the record she wasn't a princess, she was a nobleman's daughter." "Whatever," She rolled her eyes and slammed a clip into her rifle, an S-52 slugthrower rifle, known as a Blackout by those unfamiliar as it had the tendency to blackout beings permanently. Davrel raised an eyebrow at the powerful weapon. "Are you over-compensating for something?" "Are you?" She smiled. "Don't think I didn't see that Deece-seventeen in the cargo hold with all attachments." "I'm all good, don-don't mistake me, cyar'ika," he stumbled over his words, "I... I just happen to like big guns." "Right." Part One (V.II) Tavani raised the hood of her jacket as she stepped off the shuttle, a shield against the wind and pelting rain. Rainy weather was common in the northern hemisphere of Mandalore, specifically here in the town of Enceri. The rain and rush of wind partially blinded her as she tried to walk through the poorly lit town, she was glad she had got brief explanation of where to go because she'd never been to Mandalore before and was almost completely lost. The darkness of night didn't help either. "Excuse me..." she called out to the Mandalorian couple holding hands ahead of her, garbed in complete red and gray traditional Mandalorian armor. The male answered in a Concord Dawn-accented tone she hadn't heard since the end of the Clone Wars two years ago. "Yes?" She couldn't tell if he was looking at her or through her. "I'm looking for a Takara Beviin. Do you know where I can find her?" The couple looked at each other for moment then the man spoke again. "What's your business with her?" "Well, it's her brother I'm after." The woman quickly removed a blaster from the holster on her waist and directed it on Tavani. "Who are you, aru'e? And what's your business?" Tavani stood her ground and spoke in a calm tone. "My name is Tavani and I need his help." Her blaster hand did not waver. "Tell me something only he would say and promise I won't shoot you. You got ten seconds." Tavani thought for a long moment, she stumbled over her own memories to find what she was looking for. "Four, three, two... two and half." "Uh." She started to squeeze the trigger. "One." Finally, Tavani remembered what she was looking for. "Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?" "Nayc." The Mandalorian woman said and withdrew her blaster and replaced it in her holster. "Follow us." She did as instructed and followed the down the street and into a cantina. Inside were a bunch of men and women in armor matching her companions in design but differed majorly in color, tables and chairs acquainted the cantina along with a bar stocked with a variety of drinks. "This way." The woman said grabbing her wrist and leading through the crowd of hard looks and mostly gaunt faces. The Mandalorian woman led her to the back of the cantina and into a well-illuminated room, a man in plainclothes was sitting at a table tinkering with something, his back was to them. "Davrel." The woman called, "There's someone here to see you." The man swivelled around in his chair. "Damn it, Takara, I need time to—" Davrel had changed a lot physically, from the goatee and deeper voice to his larger build, he'd finally got rid of that adolescent-like high-pitched voice and lean figure. Tavani smiled and removed her hood when she made eye contact. "Time to what?" "Doesn't matter, it's not that important." He said almost breathlessly. "Tavani..." "Yes?" He gave chuckling sigh. "I'm literally at a loss for words." Takara removed her helmet and placed it on the plasteel crate behind her, the man beside her did the same. "Try saying hello." The man said. "Hello." Davrel said. "Hi." She repeated. "That's better." The man said. Takara elbowed him the gut. "Shh, Dom." He smiled. "Just trying to help." Takara grabbed the helmets from the crate, "Dav, we're gonna be at the farm." "I'll be home in a bit, kiss Goran good night for me." "Alright." She chuckled as she and Dom headed out the room. When the door hissed shut, Davrel leaned against the workbench with crossed arms. "So? There something you need, Tavani?" She sighed. "To put it plainly: I need your help." "Are you saying you want to hire me?" "In a sense, yes." Davrel scoff and turned back to his workbench and started tinkering again. "Well, as much I would love to get involved in whatever it is you're going through, I've got better things to do," Something sparked and he hissed in pain. "Fierfek!" Tavani walked over to him, pulling him towards her and looking him intently in the eyes. "This isn't just for me, this will benefit you as well; the Empire's payin' top creds for Jedi heads, not to mention there are treasures where we're going, loot to your heart's content." She could tell she had his attention now. "How much?" he queried. "If we can get away, it numbers in the hundred thousands." "What do I have to do exactly?" "Right now, just get me there." He sat there for long moment, thinking, then he looked the droid head on the table. It's eyes glowed read. "Statement: Master, it is alright, I will accompany you..." "See? Even the talking head trusts me." "... If only to watch her and keep her from betraying you." Tavani shrugged. "Well, he supports the mission, that's what counts." "Alright. I'll help you, we can leave in three days. Until then you can stay at the farm." She only nodded in agreement. Davrel grabbed the droid's head and led Tavani out of the room, he waved to the bartender and headed outside to the parked airspeeder. "Get in." She did she was told and Beviin placed the head in the back before driving off. The ride to the Beviin farm was uneventful and it was still dark by the time they arrived, everyone was probably still asleep. Davrel escorted Tavani inside and to a room, when he opened the door the room was decorated with pelts and skins hanging about the room, there was also a small whittled statue of a Wookiee and a Mandalorian made out of black wood, Tavani raised a brow at the sight. "You can stay in this room while you're here." She stepped in the room and picked up the statue, looking at it intently. "Whose room is this?" "My brother Ran's." he said remorsefully. "It's very homey, if you like dead animals hanging about," she immediately changed the subject when she noticed Davrel's eyes sink. "What happened to him?" "He's gone!" He said aloud, almost yelling, "And I don't know when or if he's coming back, so quit asking questions!" He turned away and headed down the corridor, Tavani watched until she couldn't see him anymore. "I'm sorry." she whispered to herself before closing the door. "With what?" "We'll get to that." "If you don't tell me I'm walking away. Unexpected Development Three months had passed and Davrel had held up his end of the bargain, Tani was booked for passage to Mandalore. The Jedi bounties were pouring in thanks to the Bounty Hunter's Guild activity, allowing the Empire to expand its border even farther without fear of rebellion. In turn the flow of credits continued undisturbed. Excitement rushed through Tavani, money and her family back together was all she wanted. She stood from her bed and stared out the viewport, she held a small rectangular device in her hand; Tavani took a deep breath before she could bring herself to look at it. Epilogue Jaon Beviin spat the blood oozing from his mouth after he was punch in the jaw. "Damn that was a nice one. Ow." he whispered. "What was that, laandur'agol?" A man questioned, sounding angry. The word laandur'agol coming from prefix laandur meaning delicate, soft, or fresh while the suffix agol meant meat, a derogatory term to the young Mandalorian. Jaon picked himself off the ground and gave his adversary a bloody grin which only antagonized him further. The human male stood tall over him with a vengeance in his eye, Jaon then looked at his friends Cale and Delia who were standing by. "I said you hit like a kriffing woman, Herron." He looked at his friend again, "Sorry, Delia." Imperial V.1 (Didn't take) Sir, that Twi'lek is around here somewhere. One of the stormtroopers under Rand said. The Imperial City seemed quieter than usual, too quiet for the capital of Imperial Center and too quiet for a soldier like Davin Rand. The twenty-four year old human couldn't bring himself to sleep even in his own apartment. No enemies to quell, no explosions ringing in his ears, no blaster fire in the air . . . simply nothing but the irritating hum of the constant speeder movement. Davin threw the blanket back and walked into the refresher, where he saw the broken mirror and shattered glass on the floor, then he remembered the cybernetic prosthesis. He sighed and ran his fingers up his right arm, the prosthesis' metal was cold against his finger tips; the unfeeling limb irritated him, Rand clenched his fist and bashed the wall panel with it. "Jedi." The word rolled off his tongue with a venomous hatred. Davin went back to the bedroom and opened the drawer to the nightstand on his side of the bed, careful not to wake the sleeping beauty he'd brought home. V.2 The Corusca Tower penthouse suite was eerily quiet, aside from the A New Order holofilm playing on the large projector in the living room, bodies littered the floor around the suite, discharged blaster bolts in the walls. A tall human male walked menacingly up a short flight of stairs, passed the laid out corpses from previous assailants and kicked in the locked door before him with unyielding force, a man cowered in the corner of the bare room holding his hands up to shield his face. "Please." He said. The aggressor didn't hesitate to stand him on his own two feet and punch him in the gut, then follow it with a knee to the face. The man slumped to ground and grovelled, when he looked up atthe man, he saw only darkness in his brown eyes. The aggressor grabbed hold of the man's collar and dragged him out of the room, once at the top of the stairs, he leaned the man against the banister, his nose was bleeding and cheeks were dark red with bruises, the aggressor looked him dead in the eyes and punched him once before heaving him over. The man yelled for a moment, and then there was silence once more. The belligerent pulled a small ear-piece from his jacket pocket, placed it in his right ear and activated his comlink as he started down the stairs. "Central, this is ISB agent Davin Rand. Targets neutralized, repeat: Nashal Gran and his lackeys are neutralized." When he made it to the bottom he walked over to the fallen man's body, his neck was crooked at an odd angle, Rand nudged him with the tip of his boot, and the man groaned softly. "Wait a minute, Central..." Davin unholstered his sidearm blaster and aimed in down on the damaged man, and pulled the trigger, ending his miserable suffering. "Okay, Gran is definitely dead now." A male voice responded. "Confirmed, agent. Return to base when your able." "Copy that." Davin deactivated his comm and walked to the couch and took a seat, he kicked up his feet on the glass table and grabbed the half bottle of ale on the table. He tasted it and grimaced. Ugh! Lum ale. he thought to himself. "Gross. What were you guys thinking? Always stick to the sweet stuff when you have guests over." he joked aloud. Davin pulled out a cigarette, he lit it and took a quick puff while staring at the New Order film. Stormtroopers protecting civilians and providing order from chaos. Rand sat there until the film ended and smiled. Long reign the Empire." Davin finished his drink before leaving the suite, he locked the door and headed for the hotel's turbolift, he smiled at the passing Twi'lek maid when she looked at him with a sultry grin. He pressed the lift's control button and waited; he briefly glimpsed behind him when he heard the Twi'lek scream. He quickly walked into the turbolift when the doors open, he smiled at her again as they closed. He relaxed against the wall, and realizing that he hadn't done so in weeks, his legs felt numb and he dropped to the floor. Since the massacre on Palawa....... Davin sat a chair staring out of his apartment window at the worn-down Temple of the forgotten Jedi, a large nearly empty bottle of ale in his left hand and a blaster in . . . the cybernetic monstrosity he came to know as his right hand and arm. He slowly moved his finger to the trigger when heard the apartment door open. "Davin?" He heard a woman call his name. He was so drunk he couldn't tell if it was a friend or foe, then she yelled his name when he heard her foot step walking toward den, where he was. It was Viera. V.III Prologue The Corusca Tower penthouse suite was eerily quiet, aside from the A New Order holofilm playing on the large projector in the living room, bodies littered the floor around the suite, discharged blaster bolts in the walls. A tall human male walked menacingly up a short flight of stairs, passed the laid out corpses from previous assailants and kicked in the locked door before him with unyielding force, a man cowered in the corner of the bare room holding his hands up to shield his face. "Please." He said. The aggressor didn't hesitate to stand him on his own two feet and punch him in the gut, then follow it with a knee to the face. The man slumped to ground and grovelled, when he looked up at the man, he saw no mercy in his brown eyes. The aggressor grabbed hold of the man's collar and dragged him out of the room, once at the top of the stairs, he leaned the man against the banister, his crooked nose was bleeding and cheeks were dark red with bruises, the aggressor looked him dead in the eyes and punched him once before heaving him over. The man yelled for a moment, and then there was silence once more. The belligerent pulled a small ear-piece from his jacket pocket, placed it in his right ear and activated his comlink as he started down the stairs. "Central, this is ISB agent Davin Rand. Targets neutralized, repeat: Lieutenant Nashal Gran and his lackeys are neutralized." When he made it to the bottom he walked over to the fallen man's body, his neck was crooked at an odd angle, Rand nudged him with the tip of his boot, and the man groaned softly. "Wait a minute, Central..." Davin unholstered his sidearm blaster and aimed in down on the damaged man, and pulled the trigger, ending his miserable suffering. "Okay, Gran is definitely dead now." A male voice responded. "Confirmed, agent. Return to base when your able." "Copy that." Davin deactivated his comm and walked to the couch and took a seat, he kicked up his feet on the glass table and grabbed the half bottle of ale on the table. He tasted it and grimaced. Ugh! Lum ale. he thought to himself. "Gross. What were you guys thinking? Always stick to the sweet stuff when you have guests over." he joked aloud. Davin pulled out a cigarette, he lit it and took a quick puff while staring at the New Order film. Stormtroopers protecting civilians and providing order from chaos. Rand sat there until the film ended and smiled. "Long reign the Empire." Davin finished his drink before leaving the suite, he locked the door and headed for the hotel's turbolift, he smiled at the passing Twi'lek maid when she looked at him with a sultry grin. He pressed the lift's control button and waited; he briefly glimpsed behind him when he heard the Twi'lek scream. He quickly walked into the turbolift when the doors open, he smiled at her again as they closed. He relaxed against the wall, and realizing that he hadn't done so in weeks, his legs felt numb and he dropped to the floor. He stood back up when a family of Twi'leks clambered into the lift in a hurry, he smiled when he realized a four-year-old Twi'lek girl was smiling at him, but the grin faded when her father yanked her from the human by her wrist. "Beeogola nechaska." he hissed at his daughter in Huttese. Davin understood the insult directed at both him and the girl but chose to still his reaction. "Wouldn't you rather die on your feet, fighting against those who wronged you?" Davin curbed his lips. "I don't know..." he attached the holster to his hip, "But I'm willing to try." A Final Solution Category:Jacen Fett's Stuff